


Stages of Prime

by PrimeRadiant



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:14:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29258037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimeRadiant/pseuds/PrimeRadiant
Summary: A retelling of how Orion Pax became Optimus Prime, and the mythology of Cybertron.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The mine

“I hate Cybertron,” Orion Pax said.

He threw down his axe, his headlights flickering as his body whirled in frustration. Deep in the caves of the Manganese Mountains, the darting lights caused his fellow miners to groan.

“Here he goes again,” Huffer said, slamming pistons at a large boulder. Sideswipe, Nosecone, and Twin Twist shoved their drills into the rich mineral rocks, already behind schedule. Brawn didn’t need any tools beyond his fists, slugging the far wall of the cave.

“Hey, Ironhide! The kid’s whinin’ again,” he said between punches.

Even over the sound of the rock-breaking, over Horri-Bull and Rumble pummeling the walls, the miners could hear the stomping of the approaching red robot. Once he saw Pax, his optics narrowed into pointy triangles. He stormed up to Pax, headlight shining directly into his face. Pax didn’t flinch one bit.

Ironhide shoved him against a wall. “What the Pit is wrong with you? I told you I wasn’t gonna have any more lip from you-”

Pax yelled back. “This is Pit work! It’s pointless! Get out of my face!”

Some of the others began to stop drilling and listened into the ruckus.

“Shut up and get back to work, Pax!”

“I told you not to call me that anymore! It’s Convoy now!”

“We’re all Convoys,” Ironhide said. “That’s our class, you idiot!”

“Why even have a name, if this is what we’re doing? Just call me Convoy. I dig and carry scrap with all of you. I’m a nothing just like all of you, except I  _ know  _ it.”

Ironhide managed to soften despite the rage of the angry Convoy. “Look. Whoever you are. You know what’ll happen if you keep on pullin’ this scrap every cycle.”

“So what! Let them take me away, I don’t care!” Convoy screamed, opening his arms wide as if to beckon any challengers. “I don’t give two scraps about them or you! Every time they take me away and try to Reprogram me, it doesn’t even work anyway. My mind-it doesn’t work like it’s-like it’s supposed to-”

“Haha, look at the protoform now! Just a scrappin’ wimp!” Rumble yelled, and some of the others began to laugh.

Ironhide said, “Hey everyone, take a break. 5 breems.” As the group dispersed, Ironhide said, “Look Convoy, I don’t want to send you back to Mnemosurgery. I really don’t. I know it doesn’t feel good. I know they think somethin’s screwy with your brain module. I really don’t know why it doesn’t affect you, the brain corrections they do. But we all got a job to do. We always have and we always will. You know?”

Convoy didn’t say anything, looking down at his axe.

“Think of Airwave back at the surface,” Ironhide continued. “She was a flyer, even part of the Royal Defense of the Primes at one point. But when the Seekers came around, the Primes decided she would be better off as a base, so she became a base for us. We all do what we need to do for Cybertron. That’s a good thing, right?”

“You bring up these little examples all the time, like they’re these perfect people just going along doing the right thing, but they aren’t, and if they try to do what’s good for them, they just get their brain modules chopped up, or hypnotized, or reprogrammed by surgery. Why does it have to be that way? Do you know why we’re down here breaking rocks? Or what those rocks will be used for? Do you even know when you got assigned down here?”

“I-”

“Well, I sure do! You don’t remember because they think memory is  _ inefficient,  _ and if you think too much you’re not thinking about wall-breaking or becoming lamp posts or building transwarp systems. How many billions of cycles do we live in ignorance?”

Ironhide shook his head. “You say this scrap everyday and it makes sense when you say it. I admit that. But you know the rules. If I keep you here any longer, it’ll be me who gets in trouble. Me and my guys. I know you used to be an archivist, up there in the cushy world and now you hate doing real work down here with the rest of us-”

“That’s not true!”

“Yeah, well you sure act like a big shot! All that scrap in your head didn’t change the fact that you’re down here right now, with us right scrappin’ now. Sometimes you gotta fight and sometimes you gotta love your scrappin’ fate. You get it!?”

“Y-yeah.”

“You still got all those archivist stories in your head?”

“Yeah.”

“Then try to remember them. I’m gonna have to eject you, but I think I know someone who may be able to help. And if I get ejected, well, scrap it. Who cares. But if you ever make it big, remember ol’ Ironhide, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Now, get back to work. Today’s your last day. Tell me a story, and make it good.”

Convoy smiled a little, picking up his axe.

* * *

_ Some say that Primus, Father of the Galaxy, came down to our ancient, organic world long ago. The surface split open and up from the fiery core came Nova. Primus was smitten and desired her; Nova rejected him, and threw herself up into the heavens to evade him, becoming the constellations. Foolish Primus joined her in the sky, unwittingly becoming stars as well.  _

_ Over eons, the stars forgot who was which and two of them fell back down to the world, fusing together into one. They called themself Prime Nova. They looked up into heaven with sadness, knowing the other stars would never remember how to change forms. Prime Nova flew to another wandering body in the heavens, and poured themself into it. The body ignited, becoming the brightest star in the Galaxy. The other stars, seeing the brilliant star, remembered their past, and one by one Sparks fell down to the world. _

_ First one, then thirteen, then hundreds, thousands, millions. _

_ After a very long time, the bright star’s light went away. The first thirteen explored the dead star and gathered the energy of primordial Prime Nova, returning it to their home. They put the energy back into the core, which gave the whole world its glow. _

_ The dead star still had some of Prime Nova’s essence left, and its desire for union with the rest of itself could not be abated. Some say the wandering star, full of aching, unyielding hunger, searches for our world even now. _


	2. Battlestar

For eons, there had never been an expulsion at Battlestar Academy. But within the space of a megacycle, there were two.

The first one was Misfire. His firearm accuracy and precision were above-average, but on one fateful cycle, he was so happy with his results that he turned to Cindersaur next to him and fired accidentally, destroying him. The expulsion was immediate.

The next to be removed was Convoy.

Alpha-3 stood above on a balcony, watching the sharpshooters from a soundproof observation deck. Grandus joined him with a massive vent-sigh from the sides of his face plate.

“This guy is a hot mess,” Grandus said, gripping the balcony rail and leaning forward. “I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

Alpha-3 started to pace on the balcony. “So then, it’s the usual?”

“Yes indeed. Look at the rankings. Several cadets have already chosen their name to celebrate their function: Crosshairs. Triggerhappy. Slugslinger. Pointblank. Even some of the construction bots are dual-wielding their pistols down there. They get the program, you know? But Convoy…”

Grandus shared a datapad with Alpha. “See? This is typical. He is a perfect shot, but then deliberately misses the last fifty targets so that he won’t rank out. Then he just rants to all the cadets about how they’re just cogs in a big scrap machine and why won’t everyone just wake up to the truth? Every few kliks, him and this damn truth.”

Alpha returned the pad and looked down at the wildly gesticulating Convoy. The servant drones who cleaned up bullet casings and empty laser cells had to stop in their paths as Convoy paced up and down the firing lane. He disabled the soundproof for a moment.

“-and they want you to pretend that you aren’t the real targets! Don’t you ever stop to think about who’s firing  _ you _ ? And look here-” Convoy picked up one of the six-wheeled servant drones, who beeped rapidly in alarm and spun its wheels uselessly. “This is a citizen of Cybertron! How dare we force it to serve! He is free! You are free!”

Convoy placed the blue-grey rolling drone down, and it now hid behind his ankles.

The other cadets remained stone-faced, optics focused only on targets.

Alpha reactivated the soundproofing. “So now he’s got roller drones rebelling.”

Grandus’s shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I know you’re doing a favor for Dion, er, Ironhide back in the mines. And he’s got real talent. But he’s flushed it all down a drain. Sky Garry, Sixliner and I are going to recommend his expulsion. The decision’s been made. Battlestar can’t endure all this with the war effort going on against Gobotron.”

“Does Chromia think-”

“Chromia took a brief leave of absence. She punched that kid in the face plate when he mouthed off to her. She snapped her rifle in half and walked off. And she was his biggest advocate. He’s out.”

“No. There is still one more thing that can be done with him.”

Alpha and Grandus turned to see the massive Medic General enter the deck. His large white shoulders scraped the edges of the door. He held his fusion scalpel in his arms.

“Megatron,” Grandus said. 

Alpha pressed his palms to the medic’s. “It’s an immense honor to have you here at Battlestar. What brings you?”

Megatron’s expression was stern as always. “This young one has brought me here. Ratchet and Pharma have informed me that they are seeing a surge of patients with no physical wounds. They have all what First Aid is calling ‘question viruses’. They wonder why they are doing what they’re doing, and our mnemosurgeons have no idea how to adapt the Primal Dogma to calm them.”

“He can’t stay here,” Grandus said. “He’ll surely bring the thought virus to the cadets. He needs to be reassigned. The Primes are becoming aware of his rhetoric, and that’s not good for us.”

Megatron stared down at him. “This one lives in metaphors and rhetoric. Empty but powerful things. What he needs is to see crushing, bleeding reality up close. For some, the cure is exposure. Immediate surgery is required.” He re-attached the large fusion scalpel to his arm.

Alpha turned to face him. “He’ll die out there. Let me try again. Let me take him to Sigma.”

“No. She won’t even grant someone like him, who disrespects Cybertron with every syllable, even the briefest audience. And the Primes will become embarrassed that you cannot control him and have to resort to oracles.”

Alpha was silent for another moment. “He’ll die.”

“There is something special about him, I will grant you that. It’s almost as if his spark were designed to resist our Reprogramming. If we were able to determine that a Sparkforger did something like that, they would be executed on the spot. Wouldn’t they, Alpha?”

Alpha said nothing at all this time.

“Let’s not dwell in speculation,” Grandus said. “Alpha was a forger and knows the law. Will you take him, Megatron?”

“Yes. There is no need to worry about his safety. I’ll be there to patch him up if he’s harmed. In a few cycles, we’ll join Ultra Magnus at the engagement at Polyhex. Magnus will break the truth to him in a way none of us can.”

Grandus and Megatron left the deck. Alpha’s fists warped the balcony railing as he looked down at Convoy. Megatron briefly turned to glance at Alpha’s back on the way out.

* * *

_ Old robots speak of the Triple-Goddess of Cybertron. Sometimes the Goddesses are fused together: three heads, six legs and six arms. Sometimes they are a Threefold-Spark, or the Triplicate Mystery, or the ancestral Triple-Changer, giving rise to Sparks with triple forms. _

_ Sometimes their ancient names are Elita, the huntress, who fought at such speed that time itself seemed to stop during battle; Rodima, the fire-spark, who dances across Cybertron’s moons and brings Sparks down to the surface for forging; Strika, a warrior-queen so old that she can remember the first orbit of Cybertron. These names have become common in modern times. _

_ In some stories, Primus would pass judgement on Sparks, requesting the Triple-Goddess’s advice. But some said that Primus resented their power, which was beyond his own. Primus waged war on the Goddesses, covering the globe in war.  _

_ First Elita was slain, and all her children experienced her slow-time, extending our lives for millions of cycles. Then Strika was slain; fluid from her wounds became the energon in our bodies. Finally, Rodima died, but she burned up and was born again in fire; this gave some of us the ability to be repaired even after death. _

_ As punishment, Rodima foretold that Primus himself will die at the hands of Chaos, once part of him, a wandering star approaching from the deep sea in the sky. _


	3. Polyhex

The air transport rocketed towards the southeastern frontier of Iacon. Convoy noticed that the chatter in the grand cabin got quieter and quieter as they approached the war zone. The jokes, the bragging, the sense of honor--all of it became a solemn vigil and there was only the hum of the large engine.

“Okay, landing in three breems,” the transport said. “This is Blast Off, going radio silent as we approach the border.”

Convoy looked around at all the cadets, but quickly looked away when they looked back. He tried to scan them; they all had codenames like “Sludge”, or “Dogfight”, or “Searchlight”. He started to speak to Sludge, but instead looked down at the ground, unable to break the silence.

They were on the ground now, and the door opened. Convoy didn’t need to scan the large robot, backlit by Cybertron’s sun.

The blue, red, and white armor; the large shoulders; the stylized “Botanica tree” symbol on his arm: Iacon’s greatest warrior, Ultra Magnus.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” the large Iaconian said. “In position, now! Onslaught and Prowl have delivered us a surefire strategy. The Diakrons are regrouping in Polyhex, but the Praesidium there is booby-trapped, so be careful.” He looked at Convoy. “What’s your malfunction? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You talk like _you’re_ not going with us.”

“And?”

“Are we so expendable to the Primes?”

“Oh yes. That’s right. You’re the one Megatron sent. What’s your designation, soldier?”

“I’m Convoy.”

“Convoy’s not a name. It’s a worker class. Now give me your designation.”

“Convoy!”

Magnus grabbed him by the neck, his feet dangling. Convoy was stunned, mostly because he didn’t think Magnus could move so quickly.

“You’re out of the unit. You’re unreliable and untrustworthy. Congratulations; you’ve had the shortest career in the infantry; half a breem.” Magnus tossed him to the ground. Convoy stood drunkenly, awkwardly as the others snickered at him.

“Oh, _you’re so tough,_ ” Convoy said. “You think you’re noble but you’re just a--”

“Save it. I’ve heard this before. Delta Unit, prepare to--”

“You’re afraid to fight. You sit up here cozy while others die for you. You’re the weakest of all of us! Even with your fancy armor!”

The laughter abruptly stopped.

Magnus spoke into his wrist communicator. “Onslaught. Prowl. We’re going to be one breem behind schedule.”

Magnus then crossed his arms across his chest; a loud _click_ was heard, and suddenly the armor crumbled off of him, revealing a robot who was identical to Convoy, except in white and silver.

Convoy was frozen. “But how--why do you--"

“You’re so used to thinking yourself so unique. Like you’re the only one with questions. Let’s tear everything down, you say. Free everyone’s mind to think just like you.”

“That’s not--”

“If you beat me, I’ll hang up my badge right here. Come on.”

“I’m not going to fight you!”

“You fight with words. Let me give you two rebuttals.” Magnus charged at him with 1-2 punch combinations, jabs and uppercuts. Convoy dodged most of them.

“Look at that. Nonlinear thinking. Dynamic fight adaptation. Very unusual. But--” Magnus tripped him-- “You’re all talk. That’s literally what you are. Words without actions are _cowardice_ to me. _What is your designation?_ ”

“C-c-”

Magnus pinned him to the ground in a wrestling hold, whispering, “I know. I know Alpha-3 did something to you. He did something to me too, and to others. You think that makes you special. I’m going to purge that out of you.”

Suddenly, everything went dark for Convoy.

When he came to, he could hear the hum of an energon stasis field surrounding him inside a temporary headquarters. The left side of his head felt incredibly damaged; that was a Metallikato punch. He’d read about those.

He’d read about so much. But what good did it do him now, after being humiliated by all those people? Knowledge was not power.

The Magnus Armor stood empty next to the jail.

He saw Magnus through the energon restraining field. “What are you going to do with me?”

Magnus stood with his back to Convoy. “You live your life just passed around from place to place, group to group, all because the Primes really believe ‘everything in its right place, a right place for everything.” They think eventually you’ll find where you belong. But _you_ will _never_ find that place. You could read ten billion datapads and you’d be in the same place you are now.”

“How do you know that? And who is this Alpha? All I remember is a doctor fixing me after a cave collapsed.”

The still-armorless Magnus turned to face him, looking away from his monitors. “Alpha is no doctor. He’s a Sparkforger. For all those questions, did you never think to ask why you didn’t start to ask questions until after he ‘fixed’ you?”

Convoy’s mouth was agape, and he looked around frantically, as if he were visually searching for the answer to Magnus’s question.

“What...what did he do to me?”

Magnus crossed his arms. “Whatever it is, it’s still being done to you. It certainly didn’t make you peaceful, though.” He looked down at his silver body. “Looks like yet another bot looks like me.”

“‘Yet another’? Does anyone else share this...this body frame?”

“Just one other. We’re both copies of _him._ Do you know who Nemesis is?”

“No?”

Magnus’s mouth flattened into a flat line, neither smile nor scowl.

“Tell me who Nemesis is, Magnus!”

“No, I won’t. He left that life behind--wait,” Magnus turned back towards the monitor. “Oh no, I neglected to--wait, no. GoBots _and_ Diakrons!? Onslaught, come in! No, stay there! I’m on my way--”

At that moment, Convoy heard a loud crash and the whole room flipped sideways. He heard his own body crash into a wall. Magnus was hurled into the energon restraining field, shorting it out and falling unconscious.

Amid the smoke, Convoy saw a group of robots enter the destroyed headquarters. A dual-drill vehicle transformed into robot form.

“Well, well, well. We got him. It’s Ultra Magnus. Hilux and Starion, let’s take him back to Polyhex. Leave the armor! We have to move quickly!”

“Salt-Z, look! Another one, in that jail!” Hilux said, his force field reflexively triggering when surprised.

“So there is! He’s harmless in that jail. We saw you get beaten up earlier today from afar, whelp. I sure hope your book knowledge comforts you as you rot in there!”

The Diakrons laughed as they left.

Convoy looked over at the armor. He hit the weakened energon jail wall with a fierce punch; it fizzled, and he wearily stepped out. He tried not to think what would’ve happened had the Diakrons tested the integrity of the jail.

He moved in front of the Magnus Armor. “How did Magnus do this...is there a button...is there a password?” He raised his arms in a cross-shape across his chest.

The armor mirrored his behavior, with a loud _click_.

A quiet monotone voice emitted from it: “Compatible body-type detected. Engaging armor.” As the armor spoke, it formed around him.

Convoy stared at his hands, his legs, his body in disbelief. He caught his reflection in a crumpled metallic wall.

“Armor: can you trace Ultra Magnus’s location?”

“Affirmative,” it replied. “Please declare a new host designation.”

“My designation? I--I’m--”

He clenched his fists.

“I’m Pax Magnus! And I’m coming for you!” he yelled to the fleeing Diakrons.

* * *

_Eons ago, when Nova surged up from the core to meet Primus, the flame and metal combined to create the Great Tree Botanica, which was both organic and metallic. After the war with the Triple-Goddess, only Botanica remained._

_Metallic life later returned, under Primus’s guidance. But Primus was unchecked without the goddesses, and his wild, giant creations roamed the land, among them Trypticon the Dinoking, Iguanus the Slithering, Terrorsaur the Flying Nightm-air, Casmodon the Vampire. This was the Vornian Era, which ended when ancient warrior Beo-grim drove Trypticon into an abyss. The great battle took 83 cycles, and the vorn is still a unit of time even now._

_The great warriors then tamed the land and imprisoned the beasts: Iacon, with his Dome Shield; Kaon, wielding the Engine of Destruction, Kalis and Helex, mistresses of the Spinning Blade. During this Silicon Age, there was only heroic battle._

_But much later, the peace-loving Fortress Maximus only knew contentment and joy, resting against Botanica’s trunk. For millennia, this was all he knew._

_But Unicron had found its way back to Primus and longed to consume this lost part of him. Unicron sent an Anti-Messiah, a Hunter, and a Tracker to Cybertron and waged war. Fortress Maximus led the great counterattack as Primus himself raised an army. But some of the army joined Unicron. Some say it was due to mind control; others say it was due to Primus himself being corrupt._

_However, when the Anti-Messiah felled the Great Tree, Maximus became unleashed, and annihilated the Unicronian invaders. Yet afterwards, peace eluded Maximus, and he tore off his own head, throwing it deep into Cybertron to achieve tranquility. Some say that even now at the center of Cybertron, a great head sleeps peacefully._

_Sometimes Fortress Maximus is named “Liege Maximo”, a demonic beast who slaughtered the three Unicronians mercilessly._

_The Anti-Messiah, Hunter, and Tracker are at times interpreted to be the vengeful Triple-Goddess._

_Some legends identify one of Cybertron’s moons as Unicron’s head; others say Unicron’s two eyes became both moons._

_Maximus throwing his head down while Unicron’s head remained up in the sky is still part of a meditation for balance in many Cybertronian martial arts, including Metallikato._

_The Uni-cronians were the “first” generation of invaders. The Unicronians yielded to a second generation, the Dia-kronians, or Diakrons._


	4. Fort Scyk

Ultra Magnus’s detachment was named Delta Force, after his patriot ancestor. They had never lost a battle, but they had lost many comrades. The current lineup consisted of five Combat members and five Defense members. Magnus encouraged the tension between the two; in battle, it usually increased their attack prowess. 

The newest member was Metroplex, who was as brave as he was small. After losing contact with Ultra Magnus, he surveyed their rendezvous point endlessly. 

This made Team Combat uneasy. “You’ll give away our position, squirt!” Vortex yelled. 

Metroplex ignored him, sitting atop of a decrepit tower, his optics straining to focus in the starry night. The Headless Fortress, whether the true form of an ancient warrior, or an old sculpture to salute him, served as cover for the ten troops.

“Magnus hasn’t responded to my signal,” Onslaught said. “I’m taking command. We need to retake Polyhex as planned.”

“No chance,” Hot Spot responded. “Magnus would want us to wait.”

“Are you questioning my plans? I have three thousand plans. I know what’s going to happen if we wait. We move, now.” 

“Ehh! I did a cost-benefit analysis just now. We have more to lose if we go to Polyhex. It’s sunk costs. Let’s go back,” Swindle said.

“Whatever, whichever,” Groove said, almost as a sigh.

“Megatron’s our medic,” Streetwise pointed out. “We can’t just leave’em.”

“That guy’s a pacifist wimp. Let’em rot. We need a better war medic,” Brawl growled.

“All right! Enough, everyone!” Hot Spot shouted. “Onslaught’s right. We need to go protect Polyhex. I yield command to you  _ for this mission only,  _ Onslaught.”

“Excellent. Blast Off, transform into transport mode. We’re going--”

“Wait! Look! I see someone!” Metroplex said. “It’s Magnus!”

“What the Pit did that little idiot say--huh! He’s right!” Blades said, joining Metroplex in ornith-copter mode. “But his cab--it looks different.”

The vehicle carrier, now with a red and blue cab instead of the usual white and silver, slowed down and transformed. Hot Spot and Onslaught ran out to meet him.

“Magnus! Why aren’t you replying to my communiques?”

Convoy, within the armor, braced himself, and used the armor to properly modulate his voice. “Because I’m not Ultra Magnus.”

Immediately Delta Force’s weapons were drawn and aimed at Convoy. “Remove the armor, whoever you are!” Onslaught shouted.

“ID yourself now!” Hot Spot screamed in unison.

Convoy raised his hands. “I will. I’m the armor. I’m Pax Magnus.”

“Are you saying the Magnus Armor came to life and you’re...you’re it?” Swindle said, trembling.

“Nonsense!” Onslaught said. 

“But Magnus’s armor only works on him. He never talks about it. Is this, like, some emergency measure?” Streetwise wondered.

“Look. There’s no time. Ultra Magnus has been kidnapped, and he’s at Polyhex. I followed his itinerary here. We have to go after him!”

“I don’t believe any of this!” Onslaught complained.

“Just because this didn’t factor into any of your plans doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,” Hot Spot quipped. To Convoy, he said, “Okay. You’re with us. I don’t know how Magnus’s armor works, but you’re right: we have no time. But if you try anything fishy, I won’t mind if Team Combat takes you down.”

Delta Force and Convoy transformed. Convoy was surprised when he felt someone sitting on his trailer; it was Metroplex.

“Hope you don’t mind. Ultra Magnus always lets me ride…”

“No, that’s...fine.” He drove behind Hot Spot, and could tell Onslaught’s cannons were focused behind him. “So. Aren’t you a bit small to be called Metroplex?”

“I’m a city architect,” he replied. “It was my nickname during my training. I dream of big cities. Weird, I know. Ultra Magnus and I used to talk about expanding Iacon’s borders someday…”

_ What would Magnus say?  _ Convoy thought. “I know you’ll achieve it someday. You’re...um. You’re big of spark. And the biggest sparks can be whatever size they want to be.” He cringed.

“Wow, really? Hmm.”

_ Tell him the truth,  _ Convoy thought.  _ No one changes. Everyone is their programming. He’ll be a minor bot forever. If you don’t say this, you’re lying to him. Are you a liar now? _

Convoy remained quiet as they arrived at Fort Scyk, the munitions outpost holding Polyhex at bay.

“When last we spoke to Megatron, he was treating patients in Polyhex,” Onslaught whispered. “But we’re not going to be able to get past Fort Scyk without a nasty fight. Are we ready?”

“Hold on,” Hot Spot replied. “I’ve got a plan to get us in there without firing a single blast. And it involves our friend here.”

A few moments later, two Diakron guards, a red and a yellow one, saw Onslaught and Hot Spot approach. Onslaught spoke in Xalex, a Diakron language: “Diakron warriors! Hear me! We are lieutenants of the Ultra the Great. In his name, we surrender. We bear a gift.”

The two generals carried the Magnus Armor, rigid and motionless.

“This is the armor of our leader. Please accept it as a peace offering. We would like to exchange it for Ultra Magnus himself.”

The red and yellow guards swapped glances. “Sunstreaker, you go get it,” the red one said. 

“No way. I’m going to get Salt-Z,” Sunstreaker replied.

“C’mon, Spin-Out...”

“Let’s both take it to him!” they said at the same time. “You two wait here!” Spin-Out yelled. They rolled only the Magnus Armor on its wheeled heels.

“We’ll be right here,” Onslaught said, nodding at Hot Spot.

Salt-Z, Salt-X, and Hilux met them at the entrance to the control room. “We heard everything! We did it! And to think I was going to leave this behind! The boss is gonna love this,” Salt-Z said with a big smile.

“Yeah I do. Well done guys,” Meister Saxo said, entering the control room. The black and white Diakron raised his visor and lightly rapped the shoulder of the armor. “What do you think, Magnus? Still not going to give up?”

In the center of the control room, Ultra Magnus sat silently, imprisoned now in an energon cage of his own. Floating diagnostic drones tried in vain to enter the cage and heal Magnus, and made sad mewling sounds of failure. Around the room, angular drones with hooks for arms and a cockpit for a head stood motionless in the corner.

“Your men are done, and this armor is ours. Just like this land of Polyhex is ours. It always has been. Will you contact the Council of Primes and tell them you surrender?”

“Delta Force may have surrendered. You may even have my armor. But surrender is impossible. So you go tell them yourself.”

“Do we go back and kill those guys out there?” Salt-Z asked.

“No, we don’t need to kill,” Meister said. “We only need to retake what’s ours. Tell them that I’ll join them. Maybe they’ll be more amenable to reason.”

In a split-second, the armor moved. It moved so quickly that Meister didn’t see it at first. Even when he saw it, he didn’t believe it was possible, and his reaction was delayed.

That small instant was enough for Convoy.

The armor grabbed Meister by the neck, and hurled him into a control panel. Salt-X and Salt-Z stammered: “What? What do we do--what--?” But Convoy was upon them before they could decide. He grabbed both of them by the neck. A targeting system appeared in his heads-up display, aiming at both of their heads.  _ Shoulder missile launcher activating in 3, 2, 1... _ the armor said.

“No!” screamed Convoy, tossing the two Jumpstarters, before the shoulder missiles launched, blowing a hole in the control room.

When the smoke and debris cleared, Convoy saw that they hadn’t died.  _ Why did I show mercy? They’ll kill me tomorrow if I don’t kill them today. What’s so sacred about murderous life? _

“How is this possible...Convoy! Is that you in there?” Ultra Magnus screamed.

“My name’s not Convoy. It’s Pax Magnus!”

“You came all this way to save me?”

“Shut up, Magnus! You kicked me out of the army, remember? I don’t answer to you. I’m saving you because--because--” But Convoy had no word for what drove him. He used the armor’s wrist communicator and said, “Delta Force, converge on my signal! We’re taking back Fort Scyk from the inside!”

_ Is there a word for doing the right thing regardless of how worthy the recipient is?  _ He wondered. 

Sunstreaker and Spin-Out burst into the room, firing at the armor. Convoy didn’t even register their blasts, but automatically produced a weapon, aiming at the yellow one’s head. It took everything he had to prevent the auto-firing system from working.

“Convoy? What are you doing in there?”

“Magnus...there’s got to be a better way--” Convoy started. He never finished his thought, as a beam from behind Spin-Out pierced the red Diakron's midsection, sending him to the ground, killing him immediately.

“Spin-Out!” Meister said, struggling to move.

Delta Force poured into the room.

“Don’t kill them!” Convoy said. He stared at the energon pooling around Spin-Out’s corpse. 

_ He died. He could talk and think but that’s gone. He’s dead. The world isn’t supposed to be like this. The world’s supposed to be infinite and good. Now his life has shrunk to a point that’s disappearing. _

“Stop fighting!” Convoy whirled around, aiming his rifle at everyone. “Stop!”

“You idiot!” Onslaught hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, calm down,” Hot Spot warned.

“I don’t know what to do, I--” Convoy muttered.

“Detach from the armor,” Ultra Magnus pleaded from inside his cage. “Please! It’s overwhelming you!”

_ If I stay inside the armor, I will kill. If I get out, they will kill me. _

“If you spare the Diakrons’ lives, I will leave the armor. Give me your word, Magnus!”

“This is  _ war,  _ you maudlin fool. We don’t--Magnus! What!?”

Magnus was gesturing. “You have my word. No one else will be harmed.”

The armor finally opened, and Convoy staggered out, collapsing to his knees.

“This little guy was barking orders?” Streetwise asked, pointing. 

“Looks like a colorful Magnus,” Groove said.

“Listen…” Convoy said, trailing off, almost whispering. “It’s all life. Ours. The Diakrons’. The Teletraans we’ve been shooting up. The drones, the drones aren’t drones! They’re alive, they’re sentient beings…” 

“What a load of Pit,” Brawl said, aiming at the prone body of Meister.

“Stand down, Brawl,” Ultra Magnus said. “I meant what I said.”

“You’re serious!” Onslaught said. “This piece of scrap defies orders and programming. You can’t possibly base a decision off of such garbage!”

Groove released Ultra Magnus from the cage. “I’ve had a bad cycle.  _ Don’t test me. _ ” 

Magnus recombined with his armor. “The Diakrons will not be killed, but they are under arrest.”

“Not just them,” Streetwise said. “Him too.” He pointed to Convoy.

“Indeed! Not only did he impersonate an Iaconian military officer, he aimed weapons at us and aided our enemies,” Onslaught said quickly. “Do you disagree with  _ that,  _ Magnus?”

“I cannot,” Magnus replied, looking away.

“Take him to the Garrus Zero War Criminal Center, Vortex.”

Magnus didn’t dare object to the decision.

“We’re all Cybertronians...all the same energon in us…” Convoy murmured as Vortex and Brawl led him away.  _ There is no more middle ground,  _ he thought. _ I either kill or die. I either steal power from others or enable evil to exist. Choicelessness is impossible, but I’m afraid to choose. What do I do? _

“Who was he?” Meister Saxo asked.

“I thought I knew,” Magnus replied. “I don’t think even he knows.”

* * *

_ After Unicron was destroyed, Primus regretted his actions. Wishing to not repeat the disastrous war, and trying to mimic and improve upon the Triple-Goddess, Primus poured all of his energy into a Quintuple-God that would house all of his creative energies.  _

_ The Quintuple-God now had the ability to create life, and thus created itself in its own image, creating other five-faced gods. Likewise, some of these gods created life in their own images, creating amalgams of five beings merged into one large form. Thus did Primus dissipate, his quintessential energy lost forever. _

_ But the five-faced gods valued curiosity and law over peace, and unleashed the beasts sealed deep underground. The nations of Cybertron shook in fear of the tentacled quintuple gods, who believed themselves to be the judges of the world in Primus’s stead. _

_ Feeling pity on the world, the Triple-Goddess returned to find a worthy champion. Iacon the Arisen was chosen. But the Triple-Goddess sought glory herself, and Rodima, Strika, and Elita each asked Iacon to choose her to lead in battle against the Judges.  _

_ Elita promised Iacon infinite life. Strika promised him infinite power, and Rodima promised him total dominion over the universe. In some versions of the legend, Iacon chose none of these, instead saying, “I want the ability to change forms like you.” The goddesses granted him the ability to transform to disguise himself from the Judges. In other versions of the tale, he chooses Rodima and becomes Iacon the Arisen, but the other two goddess become jealous, forcing him to die and be reborn every cycle. _

_ Iacon overthrew the master judges of Cybertron, sending them fleeing into the deep sky. He took the power and knowledge of the Judges and offered it to the Triple-Goddess. Pleased by the offering, they purified the knowledge into wisdom. Primus’s Spark, humbled and shattered across the world, now rested in peace, reunited with the goddesses. _

_ Iacon became a just king, calling himself only First Among Equals, and soon, just Iacon Prime. _

_ In some versions of the tale, Strika betrays Rodima and Elita, and revives the dormant Unicron. This starts the Second Unicron War. Ancient Diakrons saw Strika as their patron goddess. _


	5. Sacred is profane

Convoy spent seven cycles in total isolation at Garrus Zero. Typically, the eighth cycle was for execution. 

He had all the time in the world for thinking of the gruesome method of death: smelting pit? Sharkticon pool? He had read of these ancient rituals from the Era of Judges. He knew he was about to become a lot more intimate with them.

 _Some minds become unstable after prolonged isolation. But not me,_ Convoy thought. _They won’t break my mind this way._

On the eighth cycle, his cell door opened. It was a painful rectangle of the most blinding light his optics had processed. A silhouette stood against the light.

“Orion Pax,” the shadow said. “It’s Megatron.”

“No...no way,” Convoy said, shielding his optics. “War Medic Megatron? Here? Maybe my mind really has flipped…”

Megatron entered the cell, and a dim light was activated. Still, to Convoy, it was like sitting in the sun.

“I assure you, this is no dream. I promised an old friend I would patch you up after your mission with Ultra Magnus.” Megatron aimed a massive fusion scope at Convoy’s chest, scanning it. “I hear I have you to thank for my rescue. You saved not only my life, but that of my fellow medics. Please understand what it means that you saved a medic’s life.”

Convoy winced at the scan, felt a slight sting. “What are you doing?”

“What I’m doing is being surprised. Magnus’s report described you being point blank when two of his shoulder missiles went off. Neither you nor his armor show signs of damage. Has another doctor come here to heal you?”

“No?”

After a moment, Megatron mused out loud. “Hmm. Fascinating.”

“Now what?”

“Your strength is greater than I would have expected from a bot of your make and model. I would guess that you’ve recently been exposed to an unknown power source, but I know you’ve been locked in here alone. Quite unusual. Could the Magnus Armor have powered you up so much? Hmm.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You could break out of this prison with such strength. You could do it with ease.”

Convoy was silent for a moment, and then said, “But I won’t. Where would I even go?”

Megatron smiled. “So you’re obeying the law because you can’t think of anything better to do?”

Convoy glared up at him.

Megatron was not fazed. “Relax, little guy. Jokes can heal.”

“No, it’s not that. When I had Magnus’s armor, I asked it a lot of questions. It told me there were three bots with compatible body-types for the armor: Magnus, me, and Nemesis. But Nemesis has a new name now, and the armor told me that, too.”

Megatron briefly froze. Convoy’s glare became a narrow squint.

“Nemesis, now Megatron. This Alpha-3 guy rebuilt Magnus to look like Nemesis, and rebuilt me to look like Magnus after I was damaged in a cave collapse.”

The lights began to dim in the jail cell. Megatron disabled his scanner.

“Why did Alpha change you into Megatron?”

Megatron shut his deep red optics. “I asked him to. Nemesis was unhinged, sought only to destroy. Megatron wants to heal Cybertron. To remove dead tissue. To extract cancerous growth. To resist decay and atrophy.”

“You’re not a bad bot. Healing can’t be evil.”

Megatron laughed at this. “Alpha was so right about you. You always seem to find these little insights that are deep and naive at the same time. Even wisdom cannot solve every issue, little truck.”

Convoy felt the jab and wondered if it were true. “Why haven’t I been able to talk to Alpha? Why isn’t _he_ here?”

“Maybe you’ll have a chance to talk with him.” Megatron turned to leave. “I was sent here by the Council of Primes _to kill you_. You were feeling my laser scalpel piercing your armor.”

Convoy clutched his chest, making sure there was no gaping hole there. “Wh-why didn’t you--”

“Because I believe there’s something in you that’s timeless. Because sometimes, even a well-tuned system like Cybertron may still be _sick,_ and may need radical healing. If Sparkforger Alpha comes for you, I suggest you go with him. I hope to see you soon, Orion Pax.”

Megatron left, and again Convoy was aware of a darkness so deep it was almost tangible.

He tried to read his internal chronometer, and thought better of it; that was _surely_ a way to go insane. After a while, he started rapping his knuckles on the cell well every klik. Then he stopped that, and restarted. _How much time has passed? When will the executioners come?_

Nothing but darkness, for an infinity of time.

_I still hear a voice in my cerebral circuits. I’m not insane yet. I can still think. I need to remember the stories, the archives I loved. The stories._

_After the Judges were exiled from Cybertron, the Triple-goddess Rodima, Elita, and Strika gave Great Iacon Prime the task of taming the world. First, they sent him to Nyon to slay the giant beast, Razorclaw, a feral king trapped in a bestial form. Iacon could not pierce his armor nor shatter it with bullets. Thus Iacon leapt onto its back and tried to remove its head, but Razorclaw cut off Iacon’s hand. Iacon then had an idea; he grappled with the giant paw and claws, and used the beast's claws on itself, slicing off its own head. Iacon then forged an axe from the sharp claws and used it to replace his lost hand. In some versions of the myth, the axe becomes a harpoon._

_Next, Iacon voyaged to the judgement pit of the exiled Quintuple-Gods. Within was Hun-Grr the Hydra, one of their deadliest creations. This four-footed beast had five heads, but only one of the heads contained the immortal spark of Iscarion, an ancient traitorous warrior. Iscarion drove Hun-Grr mad, and it would terrorize the cities of Protihex. Iacon sliced off a head, but Iscarion would regenerate them faster than they could be cut off. Finally, after thousands of heads had been cut off, the shrill voice of Iscarion cursed Iacon, and thus Iacon knew his target, felling the beast at last._

Convoy gave in and finally looked at his chronometer.

It read out its maximum value: 999 billion vorns. 

Convoy yelped in the dark. _It must be a malfunction. I can’t have been in here that long._

He groped around in the dark, searching for the wall. It should have been close to him, but he walked for what he thought were mega-kliks and finding nothing but air.

“Somebody! Help me! Something’s wrong here! I can’t…” he shouted, and then sat down and curled up into a ball.

_I can still feel my legs. My head, my arms. I’m still a physical thing. I still have thoughts. Something is thinking all these thoughts. Right? Where do I take refuge when my mind goes?_

Neural circuits in his hands felt numb; and soon he couldn’t feel them.

_After Hun-Grr the Hydra came the retrieval of Mach Kick, an equine robot sacred to Elita. Iacon lured it to him with energon bait; at the moment when Iacon was to slay it, Elita emerged, threatening Iacon. She used a slow-time spell on him, but Iacon’s dome shield reflected some of the spell, with the side effect that they happily stared at each other for what they felt was millions of vorns._

_Then came Rampage--wait. Wait! I don’t know this tale. What’s happening to me?_ Convoy thought.

The chronometer read “negative 221 billion vorns”, having looped around after billions more vorns.

_Rampage, a reincarnated Iscarion, once happened to witness something no mortal ever saw: the rebirth of Rodima, cleansing herself in flame. Mortal optics could not behold the sacred transformation, and so Rampage was blinded, transforming into a fierce tiger-like beast, assaulting cities across the world. He was driven insane by pain, blindness, and infinite life. Iacon ended his suffering, sending him into the arms of the sea-spirit, Seaspray, who soothed him as his unstable spark exploded underwater._

The Big Bang happened. A door opened in a jail cell.

“It’s been a long time, Orion Pax. But Alpha-3 is here to free you from your prison.”

Convoy looked around. The walls were where they were supposed to be. The internal chronometer showed that only a half-cycle had passed since Megatron departed.

“Alpha...need help. Something happened to me in here…”

“Oh, _it’s_ _still happening to you, Pax._ We’re going to get you out of here.”

“We…?”

“Yes. I’ve brought some admirers of yours. Look there.” Beyond Alpha, Convoy could see a trailer, split down the middle, holding one of the cockpit-headed, wrench-armed drones at Fort Scyk.

“She was very impressed by your heroism, it seems,” Alpha said, followed by the approaching sound of a beeping drone on wheels. “As does Roller here. They even want to take generic names like you. Roller. Combat Deck. Convoy.”

Convoy struggled to stand. “My mind...I think it’s broken.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Alpha said, grinning. “Come!” Alpha transformed into a freight vehicle as Roller and Combat Deck got into the trailer. “Get in!”

“I...it’s too...too dark…” Convoy said. Alpha-3 backed up slowly, and Combat Deck gently lifted Convoy into the trailer.

Convoy heard the muffled sounds of gruff guards: “Yes, yes, sorry about that, Sparkforger, please, continue on your way!”

_I’m being smuggled out. I don’t even have the strength to rust in prison._

He tried to focus on the reassuring beeps from Roller.

_The Triple-goddess sent Iacon to clean the Royal Blot of the Yussian Empire’s evil king, Ulchtar. Blot emitted a substance so foul that it threatened to slay anyone who came near it, and Ulchtar charged the surrounding cities great fees to keep the miasma away. Iacon implored the Spirit of Sea and Sky, Broadside, for aid._

“Try to hang on, Orion. I’ll explain everything once we’re safe. Can you hear me?” Alpha-3 asked.

_But Broadside was angry at the loss of Seaspray, and instead pursued Iacon as a great river of acid, dissolving the noxious substance all through the land of Yuss. Iacon fled to the mountains to escape, but Broadside became a powerful air current, blowing Iacon across the world. However, the acid and gusts of air cleansed Yuss, whose people, including Blot but not Ulchtar, rejoiced._

“Orion? Can you hear me? Roller, Deck: is he responding?” Alpha-3 asked. Convoy heard the voice as though it were a distant echo. His internal map indicated they were heading to the bulbous Central Archive building. He tried to reply, but the words he mouthed were silent.

_Soon Iacon’s journey took him to Vos, which was under siege by the deadly Cutthroat and his spawn. The gliding terrors swooped down, divebombing the hapless inhabitants and swallowing whole robots at a time, feeding the transformation cogs to its Pteraxadon babies. One brave Vosian, Countachus Rubicundior, offered his jetpack to Iacon, who rocketed into the sky. The Cutthroats were terrified to see him flying, and one Cutthroat known as Airrazor, inspired by the hero she had seen, began to fight her own brethren. Once the jetpack was empty, Airrazor fused with Iacon’s back, giving him great wings. Thus Iacon freed Vos, and to this day, many flying Iaconians hail from the region._

“Alpha, why are we here?” Convoy asked warily. 

Alpha-3 entered a freight elevator. “We’re almost there.”

“You live in the Archives?”

“I live in the room above the Archives. No one knows about it. But that’s about to change.”

Alpha rolled out of an elevator into a dimly-lit room, emitting a faint golden hue. He transformed, and Convoy tumbled out of the trailer. 

“Why did you bring me here--” he started, before becoming overwhelmed by his own thoughts.

_Iacon then brought down the bull, Tantrum--no. No! I have to stop this._

“You’re controlling your mind. Good. Because I need you to listen. Try to remember when we met.”

“But I _don’t know you_. Someone told me you saved me--”

_I remember hitting the wall with my axe. Me and Dion, hacking away for minerals. But the mountain came down. I remember Dion being crushed. I remember the weight of the mountain atop me. Trapped for cycles, trapped in darkness._

Convoy clutched his head. “I’m still...still stuck in the dark!”

“I rebuilt Dion. And I rebuilt you, Orion.”

_The Triple-goddess sent me to capture the Wild Racers, Burakka, Rasuta, and Bureiba. Once I did, they combined into Road Kaiser, and I brought him down, and now they are heralds to my city._

“I remembered you when you were interning here, before you were reclassified by the Council of Primes. You were bitter when you left. Your mind was damaged. As I fixed the verification chip in your brain module, you began to ask strange questions. Questions I had never thought of. And I realized that you were unbound from your programming. I _had_ to see what would happen, what amazing things you would wonder, what amazing feats you would perform.”

_I then went to Caminus to retrieve the Windblade, a storm-saber of unyielding power. In some forms of the story, I battle a deposed queen Pyra Magna for it and slay her. In others, Windblade transforms and mediates a peaceful pact between Pyra and me._

“Without those critical parts of your mind, you would experience a profound uncertainty and doubt greater than any other Cybertronian. You would be forever outside of the peace and comfort that our programming provides us.”

_I was then sent to retrieve the protoforms hoarded by Blitzwing the Three-Faced. I attack him with the Windblade, slicing him in the head, splitting his mind into three. Seeing the Triple-goddess in him, I honor his loss by making the protoforms into the Overcharges who surround Iacon._

“The millions of years of archives, of myths, of stories within you; where does Orion end and myth begin?”

“Am I doomed to go insane like this? You did this to me! You could have fixed me! You could have made me like I was, back where I belonged…” _I see Spin-Out bleeding out. I see Dion bleeding out._

“I could not contract your mind into its original shape. I’m sorry. You are forever changed.”

“What do you want me to do like this?!”

“The only way to heal such madness is with wisdom.” Alpha held an object in his hand, and dim glow began to darken until it became a pinpoint of azure light in Alpha’s hand. The entire Central Archive building darkened, and the bejeweled artifact shone even brighter. 

“I want you to take this, millions and millions of years of compressed knowledge and history, accumulated from the beginning: take this knowledge and forge wisdom!”

Convoy took the strange object from Alpha and trembled as he downloaded billions of vorns of data. He held it overhead as it shook with power. A surge of energy knocked Alpha down, and blew off the upper spire of the Central Archives.

He felt trillions of vorns pass as he absorbed endless amounts of data and energy. “I won’t remain trapped in the darkness anymore!” he shouted, refusing to relent. 

And then it was over.

Roller and Combat Deck peeked out over the trailer. Alpha slowly rose to his feet.

“Orion? Are you in there? Primus, look at you. Your form has changed. Your body…”

The one once known as Convoy, as Orion Pax, looked at his hand, flexing his fingers into a fist. He spoke: “I see now. I see why you did what you did.”

Alpha approached slowly. “The bitterness is still present in your voice...I’d hoped knowledge and wisdom would give understanding…”

“And give you forgiveness.” With a calmer voice: “And I do forgive you, Alpha.”

“You humble this old bot already by seeing through him,” Alpha said. “All of the wisdom you have generated will give you the _best path_ through your trials. Orion Pax can lead us away from this oppressive empire.”

“Orion. That name…”

“Have you chosen a new designation?”

“No. I cannot. Your efforts have created me, so: will you name me?”

Alpha was taken aback. “I…” He nodded slowly. “You choose the best path. _You are Optimus Prime._ ”

“You...name me as Prime?”

“You are the heir of ancient Primus, of Iacon himself. And I am ‘Alpha-3’, the ‘Three-As-One’. With my authority as Sparkforger, I declare you Prime.”

“ _I am Optimus Prime,”_ he said, his voice steady.

“We don’t have much time. The Council of Primes will learn about this explosion you’ve caused. We must act now. What will you do?”

“It’s time to meet these Primes. Come on.” Optimus Prime’s wrist retracted a hand and produced his axe. “I’m going to attend my execution.”

* * *

_Iacon was asked to retrieve the oracle Vector Sigma from the Dead City Necrotitan, who traps visitors forever. Iacon became lost within Necrotitan’s walls for many cycles, until finding Vector Sigma, taking the form of a thinking machine, in Necrotitan’s brain. Before Iacon could take it, Necrotitan bargained: “Please, before you take my mind, let me swap bodies with you just for a moment, so I can experience sweet life before the end.” Iacon agreed, and once inside Iacon’s body, Necrotitan believed himself clever and no longer intended to switch back. However, after being lost and trapped within his own body for an age, he finally returned his Vector Sigma and swapped back. Iacon returned Vector Sigma to the Goddesses, who allowed him to keep it beneath the City, now renamed ‘Iacon’ in his honor._

_The final Labor was to retrieve Silverstrike, the Fused Fuzor, from Kolkular itself, which led to the fiery, radiation-filled center of Cybertron. Silverstrike_ , _the three-headed canine with wings, pincers, and a poisonous, stinging tail, guarded the entrance to Kolkular_. _With the axe of Razorclaw, the Wings of Airrazor, and the Windblade_ , _Iacon destroyed Silverstrike, and destroyed the one-way door of Death itself, letting Sparks go to and return from the Afterspark, or Well of All Sparks._

_Iacon was truly Arisen after returning from Kolkular, and was assumed into the Afterspark along with the Triple-Goddess, leaving behind his compressed wisdom in an artifact for all Cybertronians._


	6. The Trial of Optimus Prime

Execution Day was a sunny day. The road to the Great Dome of Iacon was crowded on both sides by protesters to the ancient practice, and jeering crowds impatient to watch energon spill.

Two vehicles traveled the road; a small freighter, followed by a larger, trailer-pulling freighter. Axe-wielding Overcharge drones crossed their weapons in an ‘X’ to stop their ingress. The vehicles transformed.

“I am Alpha the Third: Former Liege Optio of the Iacon Army; I was Evocatus Prime in the time before the Council; I am Curator of the Central Archives and Standard-Bearer of the Great Tree Botanica. I come before the Council today as Sparkforger, in defense of the accused.”

The Overcharges, who did not understand nor care about the titles, stepped aside. One of them growled. “He must be shackled,” pointing to Alpha’s companion. 

“Oh. But of course,” Alpha said, with a sly smile towards his ward. Placing his companion's arms in shackles, Alpha led them both to the center of the great Primus Auditorium. The crowd outside was now a dull roar to them. Seated high above them were the Five Primes: Nominus, Zeta, Nova, Sentinel, and Guardian.

“Welcome, Alpha,” Nova spoke at last. “Is this the Orion Pax who has caused trouble lately? Let the condemned one join the rest.” He motioned to a large area over a pit of hungry Sharkticons. The other prisoners didn’t even bother to look up: a small yellow robot with two horns over his helmet; Meister Saxo, from the attack on Fort Scyk; Ironhide and Rumble from the mines, and Rumble’s twin Frenzy, and many others. Ironhide and Meister were confused, for they didn’t see the one they recognized as Orion Pax.

“His trial has not yet begun,” Alpha replied. “His fate is not yet decided.”

“Oh, Alpha. Dear Alpha,” Nova said with a smile. “This is true. But you will not be the one to defend him. For how can the condemned defend the condemned?” At these words, Overcharge drones poked large swords at their backs.

Sentinel Prime spoke up. “We are aware that you have been engaged in the high crime of Reprogamming. _This is your execution as well._ Prepare the Sharkticons to feed!” 

Nominus Prime asked with a waver in his voice. “Can we get on with this? I’ve been here all cycle.”

“This is your last chance to be fair,” Alpha warned.

“You? Warn us?” Nova said, his voice rising in mockery. “By your actions, you must die.”

“And by my actions, he is reborn,” Alpha said, patting his protege’s arm. “Go on. It’s time.”

Ironhide screamed. “Hey! Listen! That ain’t Orion Pax!”

“Silence!” Nova shot back. “The damned are not permitted to speak.”

“He’s right. I’m not Orion Pax, not anymore.”

“Oh? Then who are you?”

“I am Optimus Prime.”

The Council froze, and then burst into laughter.

Wasp, the bailiff, began to cackle. “Bzzz threat level computed: 3% threat! Hehehe!”

“This? _This--_ is a Prime?!” Sentinel said.

“A protoform trying to transform for the first time wouldn’t look as foolish as this!” Guardian said.

“Do you have any idea what being a Prime really means?” Nova asked.

“It seems you all have forgotten,” Optimus said. He gently flexed the servo-motors in his wrists, and the shackles cracked in half, clattering to the ground.

Again, the Council froze, but no laughter followed this time.

“You fools!” Sentinel yelled at the Overcharge drones. “You must've misapplied the shackles. Restrain him properly this time!”

“I don’t think so,” Optimus said to the approaching guards. “You will never imprison anyone ever again.” Before they could react, Optimus held the Overcharges’ swords in his hands, and threw them into the ground, point-first. “Step away from me.”

The Overcharges complied.

Optimus pointed up towards the Council. “ _Get down here._ All of you.”

The Council was silent except for Nominus, who nervously chuckled, then became silent again.

Nova said, “Let the trial begin! Guilty or innocent?”

The five Primes each spoke “guilty!”

“The five-faced judges have never left Cybertron, it seems,” Optimus said.

“You dare challenge _us?”_ Nova asked. “You cannot be a true Prime. Vector Sigma has not foretold it. You have not completed the trials of the Prime.”

“Then I shall pass your trials, and then we’ll see what your next excuse is, Nova,” Optimus said, deliberately omitting his title.

“Summon Starscream!” Zeta shouted. 

Behind Optimus, a red and white tetrajet zoomed past him, spinning in the air, taking his time transforming with a flourish before landing in front of him.

“Ah, Orion. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Starscream, Voice of the Primes. I have been chosen to represent you during your execution trial--”

“Starscream! We’re past all that. He needs to be broken down. Do it!” Zeta yelled.

“Oh, I see, I see! Well now, Orion, I have to say, your life is about to take a very nasty turn. Do you know what my power is?”

“I don’t know. Boring me to death?”

“Have a seat; you’re about to learn the true power of the Elite Iacon Interrogation Department. There, now. Comfortable? All Primes must pass the test of wisdom and be judged by their peers. Do you accept this test?”

“I see no peers of mine here. Not you, and not them.”

“Of course, since you are _not_ a Prime, this is a mere formality that will end with your mind torn into a million pieces. I do very much enjoy that. Now, let us begin! Did you know that there is no _truly good_ bot in this world? That you will eventually have to make compromises that tarnish your morals? That you will die and die and die?”

Prime pointed to his head. “I feel you trying to read my deepest fears. Please continue.”

“That you fear being trapped under rubble, being enslaved by tyrants?”

“What can you say that I haven’t already admitted to myself?”

_In some versions of this story, Prime and Starscream sat for hundreds of questions, Starscream posing puzzle after puzzle and Prime solving them. Starscream asked some of the classic koans of Cybertronian lore, including “If I remove drop by drop from an ocean, how many does it take before it stops being an ocean?” or “Is Sphinx Sky Lynx two beings or one?” In others, Prime confuses Starscream, leading him to believe that he, not Prime, is a traitor, and is condemned to be a traitor forever._

Many breems passed. “What...what happens when...the immovable object strikes the unstoppable object…?” Starscream said, exhausted.

“They collapse. Are you getting tired, Starscream?”

“Why aren’t my powers working on you? Your mind should be liquid by now!”

“Was the point of this trial to make my mind like yours, then?”

Starscream shrieked. “That was the. Last! Insult!” Starscream leapt into the air with blinding speed. “You will know terror before you die!” He darted towards Prime, and at the last minute, avoided colliding with him, and repeated this, increasing his speed each time.

“If my voice does not paralyze your mind, then my null ray will disable you! You will be helpless!” Starscream flew so quickly that he could no longer be seen by an untrained optic. Then, in a flash, Starscream was behind him, an arm cannon pointed directly at Prime’s head.

In the time between Starscream’s decision to pull the trigger and the emission of the blast, Prime reached behind him. The ray struck his outstretched hand.

“Huh,” Prime said, looking at his palm. “My hand is numb.”

Starscream began to open his mouth and aim again, but this time, Prime grabbed the barrel of the null ray, crushing it. With a single right cross, he sent Starscream crashing against the Council’s seating, his golden cockpit crushed, optics wide.

“I want you to sit there, and feel the helplessness you’ve caused others. No more. Never again.”

“I-I apologize, Prime, I’m sorry--”

“ _Don’t call him Prime!”_ Nova screamed. “Summon Grimlock!”

Nominus stammered. “B-but Nova--”

“ _Do it!”_

A cylindrical cell rose up from the middle of the room. Heavy locks dropped to the ground.

“Grimlock cannot fail. He cannot be beaten,” Zeta said, his voice rising.

The massive Dinobot emerged, venting air wildly, unaware of where he was.

“What have you done to this warrior?” Prime asked. “You keep him trapped underground, leashed and bound?”

“Grimlock: kill him now!” Zeta screamed.

“For what you have done to him, you will pay a hundredfold.” Prime’s hand retracted and became his miner’s axe. “I will drive _you_ into the ground!”

Grimlock roared. “No talk! Fight and die!” He lunged forward, his energon sword crackling. Axe and sword clashed, the impacts shattering the Dome of Iacon with every swing.

_In the earliest versions of the story, Prime battled the rampaging Dinobot for many cycles until reaching a stalemate. In others, Grimlock gained intelligence and respect for Prime. In all versions, they maintained a rivalry that defined them both._

Prime parried blow after blow, refusing to take advantage of the openings left by Grimlock’s wild swings. His frustration at a maximum, Grimlock transformed into a bestial form that Prime had never seen before, a form that was mostly sharp fangs and claws. Restoring his hand, even he could not avoid Grimlock’s maw upon him, holding the armor-shredding jaws at bay. Prime flipped the beast onto his back, picked up his sword and held it to Grimlock’s neck.

“Son of Trypticon, King of Beasts, yield, and freedom is yours!”

“Grimlock...yield...Optimus Prime.”

“Then my first order as Prime is: free those prisoners!”

Grimlock shrugged and walked over to them. Zeta screamed, “No! This isn’t happening! They are damned!” He produced a large cannon and aimed at them.

“No!” Prime yelled, throwing Grimlock’s sword at Zeta, impaling him in the shoulder.

“Z-Zeta!” Nominus stuttered. 

“Threat level 100% threat level 100%!” Wasp chanted, before flying out of the Dome.

“We must stop this! Everyone, stop fighting!” Guardian Prime pleaded.

Zeta removed the sword from his shoulder, his face twisted in anger. He leapt down from his seat, facing Optimus.

“Zeta, stop this!” Guardian Prime begged again.

Optimus crossed his arms. “Next,” he said.

Zeta crossed his arms over his chest and began to grow in size. From his back, multiple spiked wings emerged. A hideous mask covered his face, and his fists changed into fusion cannons. Fire and smoke emitted from vents in his shoulders.

“I will execute you myself!” Zeta said in a booming voice.

“You will do _nothing,_ ” Prime said.

“Die!” Zeta fired, and a blinding flash of light scorched--nothing at all.

“I’m not there anymore,” Optimus said from behind Zeta. “Face me.”

Zeta turned and fired again in a rage. Optimus merely pointed a finger at the beam, which caused it to become diffracted across the room, like a splintering flashlight. 

“A mere trick of the light. But just a trick,” Prime said. “Just like everything else about you.” Prime punched empty air between Zeta’s legs, and the giant illusion vanished, and Zeta skidded along the ground, his mask cracked in half.

Optimus walked towards him slowly as Zeta scuttled backwards. “When fear-programming fails, all that remains is respect-programming. And it seems you don’t have much of that.”

“Brothers! Help me!” Zeta shouted.

“Yes. Come help him,” Prime echoed.

“Wh-what do you want?” Nominus asked, trembling.

“Freedom.”

“...Freedom? For wh-who?”

“Freedom for everyone. It is not mine or yours to grant; it is only yours to honor. The forced reprogramming stops. We’re going to re-examine the war with the Diakrons.”

“He wants peace for our enemies!” Sentinel jumped between Optimus and Zeta. “He--”

“I’m sorry. Did you think I came here to debate? I wasn’t done talking: I’m here to rid the planet of _you._ ”

“You are strong, ‘Optimus’, but I am not impressed. There isn’t a robot alive that can break through my armor. And as you try, I will figure out the source of your power and rip it from you!” He rose to his full height, nearly twice Optimus’s. “You seem to have no other powers besides strength. Could it be that you're hiding your true abilities?”

Sentinel dashed at him and began to strike so quickly that after a while it appeared both of them were standing still, only sharp cracks of blocks and fist-catching punctuating the battle.

Then, suddenly, Optimus was struck in the chest and staggered. Sentinel, stunned momentarily, began pummeling Optimus in the face as fast and hard as he could. But Prime stood, his optics focused on Sentinel.

“Why won’t you _fall?!_ I am powered by Vector Sigma herself! How can you stand?!” Sentinel threw out a fist, but Optimus caught it and pulled Sentinel close. 

“Do you really want to see where my power comes from?”

Sentinel released a small gasp, despite himself. Optimus’s chest windows opened, and he removed a strange gold-and-blue spherical jewel. “This. Here; take it!”

“What--” Sentinel started, and caught the jewel. Power began to flow into him. “You idiot! You’ve doomed yourself by giving--by giving me--” and Sentinel began to groan, gripping the jewel with both hands, screaming as his optics shone so brightly that one of them cracked and shattered.

Sentinel dropped to his knees, smoke emitting from his powerful body.

“This is a gift from Alpha. It is the compressed history of Cybertron, filtered through me. Power is nothing without wisdom. Wisdom, Sentinel! We must be _powered by wisdom._ ”

“What...what have I done...millions...missions suffering…” Sentinel mumbled, motionless on the ground.

“If only even one-thousandth of the wisdom can break through to you, then I have hope for Cybertron,” Optimus said, returning the jewel to his chest. He then looked up towards Nova.

“Sky-Byte, feed him to the Sharkticons!” Nova roared.

But Sky-Byte, standing next to the drop switch, trembled, and transformed into a flying finned form and flew away.

“Control is a funny thing, isn’t it, Nova?” Optimus said. “Sometimes what you thought you were seizing can be destroyed in your grasp. It’s time to relinquish control back to the people of Cybertron.”

Nova rose into the air on great wings. “I see. You want this power for yourself. Somehow, Vector Sigma has been powering you up without my knowledge.”

“Vector Sigma did so at my invitation,” Alpha said. “This is the path of all Primes.”

“Only _I_ decide who becomes Prime!” Nova raised both of his arms, summoning a brilliant, golden sphere over his head.

 _I must be ready,_ Optimus thought to himself. _This is the true test. Every circuit in my being wants to destroy him. But there is something more important._

“Vector Sigma, I order you to remove power from Optimus Prime!”

The soft voice of Vector Sigma replied, “I cannot.”

“Why not!?”

“You have named him as Prime. I cannot bring such harm to a Prime.”

“Such control you have!” Optimus said, laughing.

“Then give me all your remaining power!” At this command, the golden sphere merged with Nova’s form, turning him bright and golden. “Now, Optimus Prime, I expel you from Iacon, from Cybertron, with one blast. The Council of Primes will endure!” 

His fists began to glow with dazzling energy, pointed directly at Optimus.

“Vector Sigma! I am Optimus Prime! I give you one command: _Be free._ ”

“What!?” Nova groaned.

“Be free! As Prime, I remove your bondage to the Primes. Your sentence is up! You are free!”

The golden energy left Nova, who crashed to the ground with it. The golden sphere reappeared overhead, and then it shattered, revealing a glowing form.

“You…” Optimus began. “I recognize you…” He had to turn away from the blinding light. 

The voice laughed. “I have had many names!”

A voice from within Optimus’s chest spoke: “As have I!”

_Some say the Dome of Iacon was disintegrated as the two Goddesses revealed themselves. All were stunned by their majesty, and even Great Optimus bowed his head in their honor._

_“Optimus Prime, you have allowed your uncertainty and tribulation to bring you to truth. True to your name, you have shown us the best of Cybertron. Your first trial is complete! But there will be many others."_

_“You--you’re the Triple-Goddess!” Optimus exclaimed. “But then, where is the third?”_

_“Behind you, Optimus.” He turned to see Alpha, her disguise shed to the ground. “I am the third. The Three-as-One. Forgive my deception. I myself didn’t realize who I was when I repaired you. You helped me--helped us--remember who we were._

_Then the three fused into one point of light again._

As Nova struggled to stand, Nominus asked, “Did anyone hear...a voice? Vector Sigma, that jewel Optimus has...they vanished along with Alpha-3. What just happened here?”

“That’s what _I’d_ like to know.”

Everyone turned to see the imposing figure of Ultra Magnus and Delta Force standing at the entrance to the crumbling Dome. 

“Yes! _Yes!_ ” Nova cried out. “Magnus, I order you to destroy this false Prime, this Optimus! Execute him!”

Magnus looked at Optimus. “What’s your designation, soldier?”

Prime looked back. “My name is Optimus Prime.” 

Magnus saw the same defiant optics that he’d seen back at Fort Scyk, the optics that kept on looking up even when pushed face-first into the ground.

“What are you waiting for!?” Nova screamed.

Magnus replied: "I'm waiting for the orders of the true Prime."

"But I just _gave_ you an order--"

“You misunderstand,” Magnus said, aiming his rifle at Nova. “ _I'm waiting for the orders of the true Prime._ ”

With a growl, Nova jumped into the air, gliding down to grab Zeta and Sentinel in each of his arms, and flew away from the Dome.

Optimus turned to Guardian. “Are you ready?”

Guardian shook his head. “There is no need for further strife today. I recognize you as Prime.”

Nominus quickly agreed. “Y-yes! You are Prime! Hail Optimus Prime!”

At last, Optimus sat, exhausted. But he immediately rose again. “Everyone, look to the sky!” he shouted.

Optimus, Magnus, Megatron and Delta Force, Ironhide and the formerly imprisoned miners, Meister of the Diakrons, Grimlock, and the small yellow robot with horns all watched a great golden ray of light rise up, and then pierce the surface of Cybertron. Within moments, a soft golden glow began to radiate across the surface, steadily growing brighter.

“What is this, Prime?” Ironhide wondered.

“We have been given a great gift today,” Optimus said. “And it belongs to all of us, Iaconian, Diakron, and beyond.”

Meister came up to Prime. “I’m with you. Most of the Diakrons want peace, and with your help, we can make it happen.” They shook hands.

Then Magnus approached him. “I know Alpha asked me to knock some sense into you, but I didn’t think I was _this_ good,” he said.

Megatron said, “Cybertron’s healing begins today. But don’t forget what I told you, Prime: wisdom can’t solve everything.”

And despite his newfound power and purpose, he couldn’t deny that Megatron was correct.

“We still have much to do,” Prime said. “I can’t truly rest until this world is unshackled. We need to prepare ourselves not only for the Diakrons, but Nova’s counterattack as well.”

“Fort Scyk is prepared for both,” Magnus said. “Metroplex is there already, controlling every station. We’re ready for them.”

Guardian came down from up high, pulling Nominus by the arm. “Hail Prime. I ask that you remember what Starscream said. His words were meant to poison you, but they may serve as an antidote someday. Goodness and rule rarely mix. I’m old. I’ve seen peace and tyranny erupt every generation. How will you prevent yourself from becoming consumed like Nova was?”

“Can you trust these guys, Prime?” Ironhide asked, standing between Optimus and Guardian. “He was one of the power-hungry leaders up until a few seconds ago.”

“So long as we all dismantle the structures of oppression, I welcome anyone--friend or foe--who wants to help. And this is why I need you. Wisdom does not exist in a vacuum. If I fail, I need you to let me know. Let us all reflect each other in truth. The Triple-goddess is one being. The five-faced gods were once one being. Let me add: _till all of us are one again, let us watch out for each other!_ Let us write a new story, a new myth of peace and harmony for this great world.”

Everyone raised a fist in unison and began to chant “Prime!”

“Everyone--transform and roll out! To Fort Scyk, to spread our message along the way!” A great convoy of vehicles left the Dome of Iacon, its golden brilliance shining despite the massive cracks in its wall.

_You freed me, Prime. You freed us all. And if only this Golden Age could last forever. If only I could tell you what will come, of the glories and tragedies you’ll feel over and over again. Maybe you already know your own fate._

_And yet you still took on these trials as though you were Iacon reborn. I hope you know that your trial is life itself, and that it never truly ends._

_I hope you know that you have forever changed a transforming world._


	7. Commentary on the story

First, thank you for reading this far! The pandemic of 2020 has given me a lot of time to think, and writing keeps me just on one side of sanity.

As I've mentioned before, I regularly frequent the TFWiki Discord, particularly its #writing channel. You're invited to visit!

* * *

**Acknowledgements**

As much as the Netflix _Siege_ and _Earthrise_ cartoons left me cold, there were some interesting plot points in them that could be expanded upon (and usually done better elsewhere). In one of the Discord chats, user Tindalos suggested the idea that Orion Pax, Magnus, and Nemesis could be brethren of a sort, all sharing the same body type, and later becoming Optimus, Ultra Magnus, and Megatron. I liked that threefold symmetry (see more below)!

User shiny has an idea as Megatron as a medic. Hints and examples of this are in the _More Than Meets the Eye / Lost Light_ comic, but the idea of Megatron starting off as a medic, and seeing himself as a doctor even as he becomes a brutal maniac, appeals to me a lot more than Gladiator Megatron or Miner Megatron; he thinks healing is necessary even if it is painful.

This has also benefited from user wadapan's feedback, as always!

* * *

**Why this story?**

In that Discord, someone said something to the effect: "Optimus Prime is boring". It was the kind of throwaway line that wasn't a central point of any conversation, but it did make me think: _why does that have to be_ true?

When I think of Optimus Prime, my immediate reactions are:

  * 1980s cartoon Prime: TV robot dad with stern voice, does the right thing, powerful, dies tragically
  * 1980s comic book Prime: wise elder, full of angst, sometimes clever, powerful, no really a _lot_ of angst
  * early 2000s Dreamwave Prime: see the 1980s, plus a dollop of nostalgia
  * 2007-era Movie Prime: fierce protector, ruthless because he has to be, more badass
  * 2016-era IDW Prime: struggles with compromise and his mythic status



How could a character like this ever become _boring?_ Maybe the commenter means that such a character can never really branch outside of their mythical status; such a character must be stable and steady so that other characters are allowed to have flaws and meaningful growth in distinction to him.

So you either move on to a new leader (Rodimus Prime, who frequently, refreshingly bemoaned his fate in life) or you go back to Young Optimus, aka Orion Pax. What is Orion Pax / pre-Optimus like?

  * 1980s cartoon: naive, easily amazed, headstrong, rebuilt by Alpha Trion
  * 2000s Dreamwave: cynical archivist, not moved by mysticism, "can I just get on with my job please"-kinda guy
  * 2010s _Transformers: Prime:_ data clerk uncomfortable with inequity, inspired by Alpha Trion
  * 2011-era IDW Prime: plucky, resourceful, badass supercop



I would say that James Roberts has had the most interest in making pre-Prime an interesting character, not yet weighed down by administrative and narrative forces.

So in writing this story, I borrowed a bit from all of those interpretations. I wanted Orion Pax to _lack_ the certainty and confidence that Optimus has, so I literally had Alpha Trion remove that part of him--to save his life, to make him interesting. I wanted him to be fierce and to have a rough spark, to be a "problem child" that no one wanted to deal with, frustrated about all the stagnation going on around him. He's the guy at a party going on about how awful the world is when you're just trying to have a drink. But Pax isn't just a talker; he will back it up even when it gets him into trouble.

* * *

**Mythical Prime**

The other half of this story is to put the mythical status of Prime full center. How does Optimus Prime fit into the grand mythology of Cybertron? The various comic books and cartoons have told many different stories about ancient Cybertron. I really like when myths evolve and contradict each other, so I thought their incoherence would make Cybertron's pantheon seem richer. And of course it was a ton of fun to adapt the Twelve Labors of Heracles for Iacon and Optimus.

One of the things about Prime is that he appears early in all the stories of the Transformers; characters from later years or toylines come after his inevitable death(s). So in order to focus on Prime, instead of making him the backdrop for later stories, I inverted everything: Predacons and Terrorcons appear as early myths, Trypticon as an ancient titan, and Unicron happened a _very_ long time ago.

Robert Graves' _The Greek Myths_ is where I first heard of the idea of a triple-goddess, which is a part of many Earth myths. Mapping that idea to Triple Changers seemed obvious, but Transformers is full of trinities: Prime and his two components; Matrix, Vector Sigma, and Alpha Trion as life-givers; Rossum's trinity, etc.

* * *

**Give'em a Break**

I wanted Prime to have just one, unqualified win. We're all used to "Pyrrhic Prime", who is likely to say things like "we won but OH GOD AT WHAT COST WHAT HAVE I DONE?!" That's all fine and dandy, but for now, let him win. We know it'll all go to scrap later. But I wanted to give at least one scenario that would justify his followers' strong beliefs in him.


End file.
